We are surrounded by plant life and twittering birds here in our liddle hideeway in the Hollywood hills. We have this huge picture window right next to our bed and a grassy lot next door with a view of a single tree, but the tree is as big as a whole forest. I don't know what kind it is; it looks Bay-ish.
When I wake up, I think, I'm really in a tree house, which is what I've always wanted to live in. And if I edit out the three stinking phone wires in the top section of the glass window, I really do feel like there are branches holding up our bed.
I don’t mind the wires; two finches sat on them the morning after we moved in tilted their heads back and forth and stared at me snuggled in the covers like, "Sew, like, Yer the new, people? Are you actors, musicians or writers? When is your movie being produced?”
When the sun comes out of the East and hits the bare trunk of the tree-that-is-a-forest, the wood glows red and it looks like we’re on an exotic island. We even have music.
The birds greet us each day singing.
Sometimes, there are so many birds calling that it sounds like,
"You're surrounded! Come out with your hands up!"
And I do. I walk out on my balcony and stretch out my arms.
Last week, I got a horoscope that read, "You need to reinvent yourself. Ask and you will be renewed."
Yeah...Okay, I thought. I can do that.
So I stood up, stretched my arms wide, closed my eyes and tilted my head upwards and said,
" GOD, I need a new me and I'm askin'."
And in my head I heard this solemn, deep, male voice intone,
"You, are reborn…. You are - A HOUSEWIFE!"

I collapsed into a fit of giggles.
Oh, thanks God, just what I wanted.

My house is so messy. I'm awash in a sea of unpacking, laundry, dirty dishes, filing, furry floors (dang pets!) and why does this place have so many windows to clean!
I can just hear my daughter, Jane, say, "You know dirt is a reflection on your personality."
She should see my kitchen. I'd say, I'm creative. Yep.
Me and the sink got sick at the same time last week. The difference is, I could go to bed and get better, the sink needed a specialist.
“The plumber,” I was told by my landlord, “will arrive between 11am and 1pm.”
Sort of made me feel that he was going to be a BIG plumber.
And he was too, but it didn’t stop him from getting the job done.
“Ya gotta move all that stuff out from under the sink. I gotta get my stuff outa the truck.”
Didn’t I tell him I was sick?
He came back with his toolbox and saw me sitting on the floor with my head slumped forward. I just couldn’t get back up. Maybe I was wrong about being better than the sink.
I took a deep breath and he helped me up to go lay on the couch…Or I lied on the couch or laid on the couch?
I rested on the couch.
And he shouted out things like, “Coffee grinds. Here’s your problem. You’ve been dumping coffee grinds down the sink.” He walked out of the kitchen and showed me a pipe stuffed full of black coffee soot.
“I do not dump coffee grinds down the sink. Maybe my husband has.”
“Well, your husband or someone," he said under his breath, "has been dumping coffee grinds down the sink by the handful.”
“Well, I’ll talk to my husband about it,” I said.
“These garbage disposals are more trouble then they are worth. Your husband or someone shouldn’t dump those coffee grinds down the sink.”
I got up. And took the metal filter out of our new coffee maker.
“Here’s what I do. I tap the coffee grinds out into the trash like this and rinse the little that's left down the drain. Is that causing the problem?"
“Nah, someone is dumping the whole thing down there. These garbage disposals ain’t worth nothin’.”
“Well, there's only the two of us here. I’ll talk to my husband about it.”
"Well, you talk to him or someone.”
I know I’m not putting coffee in the sink. Who else is it going to be doing this dastardly deed if it isn’t my husband?
I told Glenn about the mysterious other person in our house that is stuffing our drains full of coffee and he said, “Oh, I trained the dog to get me a cup in the morning. Dang it, Lionel, come over here. Now, I'm just going to show you this one more time!"

Watching the birds in my back yard is like watching air hide and seek. A crow squawks and high tails it as a mockingbird half his size streaks after the big black bird pecking his butt all the way across the field.
I think; what did he do?
They kind of remind me of a little kid beating up his older cousin. Why doesn't the huge crow just turn around and fight back? Is it because he's laughing to hard at what he did?
"Rrrrrrruph, hrrrrraaaah!" A truck on the highway passes and washes out nature for a few seconds.
The spell is broken, but what are these loud trucks hauling? Twenty-Four cartons of actors? We aren't growing tomatoes here. What's the hurry? Gotta get those breast implants and lip inserts to the plastic surgeons? There are a lot of signs out here for cosmetic surgery. This is the land of the beautiful people. I am constantly surprised by just how many pretty faces I come across when I am out running errands. Maybe it’s because I think people are supposed to be beautiful here, and I’m looking for them? I’ve meet movie stars too.
I meet a movie star every time I go out. I live right down the street from Universal Studios, it’s not that hard to believe.
I went shopping at the grocery store and stopped at Starbucks to get coffee because my dog didn't make me a cup. My phone rang as I went to get cream and sugar. I stuck my coffee cup in my armpit and took the call amd bumped a guy’s elbow.
“Wow! That’s hot!” I said.
“What the foam?” he said wiping it off his shirt.
And I looked up and thought?
I know you! You are a famous actor! I’ve seen you in films and television and my mind is drawing a blank on your name or any movie or television show I have ever seen you perform in!
That took about 2 milliseconds to flash across my forehead.
His words echoed in my head, "What the foam, foam, foam?" As he stared at me waiting for an answer.
“Uh, no. Just don’t stick a latte in your armpit when taking a call.” I said, hanging up my cell.
He got a look on his face that said, RUN! Really scary fan approaching, and disappeared while I was sprinkling sugar trying to recall his name.
I went home and remembered seeing him with another actor on a cop show. I couldn’t think of the other guy’s name, but I did know a movie that actor had been in, so after some research on Google, there he was.
The cool Sergeant Dietrich from Barney Miller.
Steve Landesberg said, “What the foam?” in that very funny, smooth, sexy, sarcastic voice he has, and I didn’t even apologize for knocking his arm.
And how do you ask for an autograph from an actor you know you know, but you don’t know, you know?
Someone like the actor I saw sitting on a bench in Malibu talking with a friend or the actor I saw in the grocery store. He smiled and moved his cart out of my way, just like he was in a movie! And I could not bring his name out of my brain vault. I still don’t know any one who co-starred with that actor or any of his movies. What do I say? What do I do? Make my voice sound afflicted like the cartoon, Marvin the Martian?
“Hel-lo, I suf-fer from CRS; I real-ly loved you in all yar…. per-for-mances. Pleaze give me yar aut-oh-graph. What’s CRS? Can’t remember shit.”
And what is it with the grocery stores here, anyway? They seem to have Dukes of Hazard special coating on their parking lots. If you drive over 5 miles an hour, your car screeches like it’s tearing down the highway doin’ 105 and about to flip over. It’s really bizarre, and it explains how they make all those chase scene sounds in the movies without raising their insurance rates.

Director:“Just coat that road with the Dukes stuff, Jess, and I’ll tell the stunt man we’re ready to roll.”
Jess: "It's amazing how fast people think that cars going with this stuff. I'm so glad we can give the elderly stunt men work."
Director: "Yeah, he'll never go over 15 mph but the car sounds the way he looks, over a hundred."

I can’t imagine what it’s like to live next to a grocery store here. It’s bad enough being close to the Hollywood Freeway. But the grocery store parking lots are just a constant screeching of tires.

Sometimes, the Highway drowns out the birdcalls, most times the birds win. Glenn calls the highway noise "the ocean." He tells me "Come here, you can hear the waves," with this silly dreamy smile on his face.
Glenn's named the different parts of our home too. He's an engineer. They like names. They were the kids in first grade that were happy to be in the bluebird group.
The bluebird group were the slow readers, but don't tell the engineers.
The kitchen is “Cachina.” The porch is “Guadalajara” my office is "the hills" (tee hee) and his is "The Woods" for obvious reasons.
Well, obvious to me…and a few woman that still remember my husband is a Great guy.
Our bedroom porch is called Shangri-la.
Okay, I like that one. Makes me feel like we are still in our twenties living on an exoctic isle.
I transplanted our passionflower from Mountain View to Shangri-la.
It loves it! The whole plant is covered in blossoms. I think it’s a sign from the Universe.
Yep, that’s it. It’s a sign.
We’re flourishing in the tropics!
"Lionel, get me a cup of coffee; I'll be out on the p...uh, I'll be in Shangri-La."

That's the lastest from LaLa land.

Email your comments to Carol Wood at Carol@hazelst.com